“I like him,” was the frank answer.  “He is very agreeable, and then he looks so ill.”

“Was I right in asking him to stay here?”

“Yes, I think so.  He is your nearest relation, and, as the proverb says, ‘Bluid is thicker than water.’”

“Not always.”

“But now you will soon be able to judge how you like him, I hope you will be very kind to him.”

“Do you, Helen?  Then I certainly will.”

The earl kept his word.  Many weeks went by; the 15th of July was long past, and still Captain Bruce remained a guest at the Castle—­quite domesticated, for he soon made himself as much at home as if he had dwelt there all his days.  He fluctuated a little between the Castle and the Manse, but soon decided that the latter was “rather a dull house” —­the boys rough—­the minister too much of a student—­and Miss Cardross “a very good sort of girl, but certainly no beauty,” which dictum delivered in an oracular manner, as from one well accustomed to criticize the sex, always amused the earl exceedingly.

To Lord Cairnforth, his new-found cousin devoted himself in the most cousinly way.  Tender, respectful, unobtrusive, bestowing on him enough, and not too much of his society; never interfering, and yet always at hand with any assistance required:  he was exactly the companion which the earl needed, and liked constantly beside him.  For, of course, Malcolm, fond and faithful as he was, was only a servant; a friend, who was also a gentleman, yet who did not seem to feel or dislike the many small cares and attentions which were necessities to Lord Cairnforth, was quite a different thing.  It was a touching contrast to see the two together; the active, elegant young man—­for, now he was well-dressed, Captain Bruce looked remarkably elegant and gentlemanly, and the little motionless figure, as impassive and helpless almost as an image carved in stone, but yet who was undoubtedly the Earl of Cairnforth, and sole master of Cairnforth Castle.

Perhaps the wisest bit of the captain’s proceedings was the tact with which he always recognized this fact, and paid his cousin that respect and deference, and that tacit acknowledgment of his rights of manhood and government which could not but be soothing and pleasant to one so afflicted.  Or perhaps—­let us give the kindest interpretation possible to all things—­the earl’s helplessness and loveableness touched a chord long silent, or never stirred before in the heart of the man of the world.  Possibly—­who can say?—­he really began to like him.

At any rate, he seemed as if he did, and Lord Cairnforth gave back to him in double measure all that he bestowed.

As a matter of course, all the captain’s pecuniary needs were at once supplied.  His threadbare clothes became mysteriously changed into a wardrobe supplied with every thing that a gentleman could desire, and a rather luxurious gentleman too; which, owing to his Indian habits and his delicate health, the young captain turned out to be.  At first he resisted all this kindness; but all remonstrances being soon overcome, he took his luxuries quite naturally, and evidently enjoyed them, though scarcely so much as the earl himself.